Change Hurts
by Berk's-Potato-Bender
Summary: Change was supposed to be slow, barely able to be detected by the eye. Change was supposed to be as slow as the totem rocks in the desert, by his home, only changed by the decades of wind and rain. Any change that happened fast, without warning, was always the worst, most unbearable thing for Keith. (T for language)
1. Nobody Needs to Know

**Hi guys! My first Voltron Fic, of course it has to be angst! Enjoy this crap, and review!**

* * *

Change was supposed to be slow, barely able to be detected by the eye. Change was supposed to be as slow as the totem rocks in the desert, by his home, only changed by the decades of wind and rain.

Any change that happened fast, without warning, was always the worst, most unbearable thing for Keith.

There was no warning when his mother died; struck by some strange illness he couldn't find medicine for. Two days were all it took, because she refused to visit a doctor. Her change from a smiling, vibrant woman to an emaciated, sunken-faced corpse was too fast.

Every foster home was a blur, none of them were good.

The garrison, however, was his place, only changing like school in the most mundane ways, but it was just that – mundane. He couldn't stand it, not with his memories of his mom's sun filled apartment, filled with knickknacks and little things she like best about the world. A bonsai tree, a jar of rainwater, a mobile of shiny rocks – all of them she cherished and kept.

When he entered a giant blue lion with a Latino, a Hawaiian, a fugitive, and a little nerd, it felt more like the start of a bad joke, but soon there it was again: change. Rapid, crazy, and shaped like a wormhole.

Alarms went off then and had been going off ever since in Keith's head. Something awful was coming. The worst was that damn Galra ship, getting splashed by quintessence. He had prayed the burn to go away, and was shocked that it did, but being honest with himself, he knew it was no burn.

It was skin.

Purple skin.

It didn't appear again for months after the wormhole incident.

Perhaps it all began one night at dinner – one of the rare occasions where everyone was actually present, and not in a healing pod, or asleep, or working on their lions. Even when they were done with their food, it had turned into 'Story Time with Coran'. He reminisced over a place of leftover food - the real kind - that they had gathered the day before off of a beach planet. "I remember the first time I shapeshifted – scared the pants right off my grandfather when I walked into the room looking like a Visconian Drishough!"

Hunk eyed Coran warily. "I thought you loved the guy."

Coran fiddled with his mustache in irritation, something Keith noticed he did a lot. "My grandfather and I got along famously! But young Alteans have difficulty controlling out species' chameleon abilities. Even Allura once-"

"We don't need to discuss that, Coran!" Allura cut in sharply, glaring at him hard enough to burn a hole through his head.

"Ah, well," Coran swallowed. "Point is, it takes a while for us to gain full control."

Lance scoffed, leaning back in his seat. "So what, Altean kids don't even look Altean? That must've been confusing!"

"Well, it certainly was tricky, but it's something that actually occurs in later years." Coran dipped his head, "Usually triggered by stress, since it originally was a defense mechanism in our ancestors."

"X-men." Hunk whispered.

"Alien puberty," Pidge deadpanned. Hunk shot her a dirty look for ruining his reference.

"Ha!" Lance crossed his arms. "I would love to see that!"

Keith was silent for the whole conversation, not adding to the group's quips or taunts, or jokes directed towards Hunk's supposed attraction to a certain Balmeran ('you should've been Altean, Hunk!').

Changing one's appearance on a whim to deceive others – how many times had he done that, even before his time of being a Voltron paladin? Although he had done all that before with no regrets, now something just didn't sit right with his stomach. It felt like a pit was forming and causing knots to form all the way up his guy, making his dinner turn sour in his stomach, like spoiled milk.

Keith shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to get his stomach to settle. He didn't want to leave first and spoil the mood. Shiro had told him it was polite to stay until the meal was done, and good for team bonding.

Dinner eventually dwindled in its enthusiasm, but it took a solid hour of bantering and near-disasters.

Pidge was the first to go, with Shiro tailing right behind her. They claimed that they were going to do some diagnostics on Black and Green, and 'pulling out some dents' from the last battle. Hunk and Coran excused themselves to do cleanup. Keith hadn't even noticed that Allura had left in the chaos, and Lance was going to turn in early for bed, but not before turning around to look back at Keith.

"Did you get some sun or something yesterday?" He asked, "Your skin is actually darker."

Keith was astonished. Mostly because Lance's commentary was on something other than his mullet, but also because he was positive that he couldn't tan. He shrugged, looking down at his hands. Lance was right, though – his skin was darker than his usual pale complexion, but not in a tan way, just… darker.

"Maybe you still have some hope," Lance quipped, "You won't be an emo child forever!"

Lance dashed from the room and out of sight, Keith screeching after him about for as long as he could hear the stupid Blue Paladin's cackles. Keith slumped back in his chair. "I'm not emo. Damn you."

* * *

That night, in the confines of his own room, Keith sat cross-legged on his bed, inspecting his skin closely. Lance was right, no doubt about it, his skin was noticeably darker. Darker, but not tanned. Which was weird. In his entire stint living alone in the desert back on Earth, he had remained pale (yes, he'd admit it) as ever – and somehow living on a space ship, and always wearing a full suit of armor on their excursions, he had darkened his skin.

It was strange, because on their trip to the beach planet the day before, he was positive that he had been covered head to toe in his paladin armor. Lance and Hunk were the only ones to shed their armor in favour of a swim, and to look for some fish.

Was it space radiation? _Not likely_. Probably more of crystal radiation, or something leftover from over-exposure to the healing pods? Who knew – there could be hundreds of different reasons for the change. He couldn't agonize over it.

He had been training hard on the training deck, for several hours, but something seemed off. His hearing was too sharp – he dodged too early and would get tripped up by the gladiator on its easiest setting. His eyes would pick up subtle things he had never noticed before, and it distracted him for the actual swings the gladiator was throwing. Keith's lack of attention earned him a solid knock in the chest, and a fit of laughter from Pidge.

Keith called for the simulation to end, huffing on the floor.

Lance sauntered up to him, leaning over Keith with that signature smirk. "Dude, you sucked quiznak!"

Keith coughed, "I was distracted."

The Blue Paladin offered Keith his hand. "You're flaking on us!"

"Yah, you might stand a chance against my little finger now." Keith snagged Lance's hand before he could pull it away. He drew himself into a stand, shaking his head, trying to clear it.

Pidge had stopped laughing to herself, and when her eyes scanned Keith, they widened, "Woah, Keith, did the gladiator actually get you in the face?"

Keith's hand immediately went up to his face, and came away with blood. He could taste the metallic tang in his mouth. Yep, his lip was busted. His brow scrunched up. He didn't remember being hit in the mouth.

"I guess so." He wiped the blood away with the heel of his palm.

Lance swapped places with him on the training deck, calling up the gladiator and settling into the simulation. He recently had been trying his luck with the staff, since it had been his primary weapon after they all had been separated and his bayard damaged in the crash. The repairs were going well, but Lance wanted something to work on in the meantime, even if he was useless at close range combat.

While the others were distracted, Keith ducked out of the training room, looking to retire to his bedroom and get a grip of himself.

All of their quarters were close together, situated in a single corridor that was in the 'west' wing of the castle (or what was west when the Castle of Lions was still situated on Altea), so Keith was grateful that no one else appeared to talk with him on his way to the room. They would worry over his now bloody face, and the red smeared on his pants.

He doused his face with water in his bathroom, soaking his hair and neck, and watching red swirl down the drain with the water. He spit once more into the basin to be sure he was done bleeding, then reached for the towel next to the mirror.

It was then that he froze, staring at his reflection – slack jawed and wide eyed. He didn't remember having teeth quite like that. Keith lurched forward over the vanity, lifting his upper lip to inspect his impossibly long canines. _What the hell_? They were long and pointed, and now, upon realization, had been the cause of his bloody mouth. _They couldn't have possibly grown so fast…_ but then again, there they were, completely different from how they were that morning when he brushed them.

 _Probably Coran's food goo, or something._ Keith tried to dismiss it, but he couldn't.

He crawled into bed, head spinning. _Tomorrow you'll wake up and this will have all been a bad dream._

* * *

It had been three days after his teeth had given him a bloody face, and Keith was still getting used to them. He inspected them every morning, hoping it had just been a dream, but they remained in his mouth, wickedly sharp and hauntingly real.

He had bit his lip a couple more times since that initial incident, but he had felt it, and was able to suck the blood up before any of his companions noticed. It was leaving his mouth sore, and the inside of his lip swollen, which led to more accidental biting.

He had never thought he'd have to consider filing his own teeth down.

Keith's skin was also progressively getting darker – it was just barely noticeable, but Keith could see it. He covered himself pretty well around the team, and he had taken to wearing long sleeve shirts for training, instead of his usual tee.

It was on the morning of this third day that Keith noticed a purple splotch on the back of his hand. It was small, hardly the size of a nickel, and blended well into his new skin complexion, but it was enough to send Keith into a panic. He plunged his hand into the sink, scrubbing harshly with scalding water. It's just like then. Just like the Galra ship with that quintessence.

" _Out, damn spot_!" Keith growled at it, rubbing and scraping and cursing until his hand turned raw, and the spot looked darker purple than before. "Shit!"

Keith retreated from the bathroom, head skittering dangerously. He started to pray – he thought he was. On the Galra ship is was more of him mentally screaming at whatever space god would bother to listen. Keith had had lots of religious foster parents, who did the mealtime prayers and whatnot, but asking for things from a God who let his mother die – that wasn't usually his thing.

This purple splotch on the back of his hand, however, prompted him to try for at least two seconds before giving up.

Keith fell back onto his bed, cradling his hand to his chest. He cursed at himself, frantically trying to figure out what he was going to do.

Allura had scheduled time slots for training activities, and he usually would never be caught dead trailing behind the usually late Lance. It would alert the others that something was wrong, and he couldn't allow that.

Keith snatched his gloves off his nightstand, tugging them on, and being sure that the left one covered the splotch.

Nobody knew before, nobody needed to know now.


	2. This Wasn't in the Rivalry Description

Lance was frustrated. He had spent the last three hours laying upside down off the couch in the lounge, listening to Pidge tapping away on her computer, and her occasional humming. He sometimes would take a peek at what she was working on, but being upside down, the schematics and spreadsheets made little sense.

He needed something to _do_. He was tired of being avoided by Keith, mostly. What with Keith's near obsession with 'bonding', Lance thought he would be more open to sparring or something, but every time he stuck his head in on the training deck, Keith, uncharacteristically, wasn't there.

Still in wanting of something to do, he flipped ungracefully off the couch, much to Pidge's amusement, and made for the paladin quarters. Lance was going to find something in his room to quell his need for stimulation, like the Altean equivalent of a Rubik's Cube (although he had already figured out how to solve it), or just some lint to roll in his hands – Lance wasn't terribly picky.

When he stood in front of his door, he couldn't help but think of the occupant next room. Keith.

 _He won't want you there_ , Lance thought. _He's probably sulking_. Lance sighed, then dragged himself over to Keith door. He rapped loudly on the door with his knuckles.

"Hey, Keith, you dead or something?" He leaned on the door with his forearm, trying not to breathe so he could hear the reply.

There was no answer from the other side of the door, so, after a moment of catching his breath, and some hesitation, he punched the keypad buttons and let himself in.

It was dark in the room, with the exception of the faint baseboard lights. Keith was lying on his bed, covers pulled up over his head. _Asleep… he's asleep…_ , the creases on Lance's brow lessened by a fraction. _Probably catching up on it._ He was about to turn away, but Keith's breathing hitched, betraying that he was very much awake.

"Keith, you alright, man? No one's seen you in days."

"Go away, Lance."

Lance froze at the sound of his friend's voice. It sounded cracked and strained – hoarse and thin. Had Keith been… crying? Lance leaned against the far wall from the bed, slowly lowering himself to the ground, well away. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine." The sheets were pulled tighter.

Lance woke to his watch beeping. Three o'clock in the morning. He was still slumped against the wall, opposite of Keith's bed. Now, however, his friend, his rival, was watching him. It was difficult to see Keith's face, with both the sheets pulled up and his hair forming a thick curtain. But Lance could swear that Keith's eyes were faintly glowing. Keith flinched when their eyes met, drawing the covers up to cover his face completely.

"Keith, buddy, you gotta tell me what's up." Lance rubbed his face tiredly. He swiped under her eyes with his fingers, groaning quietly.

There was probably a full minute of silence before Keith made a sound.

"I never knew my dad," He whispered. "Mom always said he worked very far away, and was busy. I always thought he would come back… for Mom, at least. He probably didn't know about me."

Lance listened silently, but he was surprised. Keith never spoke about his family, when he did talk.

"I always wanted him to come back, so I could see Mom happy again. So she wouldn't have to be tired all the time." Keith's voice cracked, and he buried his head further into his pillow. "After she died, I wanted him to come back so I could punch him."

Lance's eyes flickered up at him, and then back down again at his knees.

Keith's breathing faltered. "Now… now I hope I never see that bastard. If I do… I'm going to kill him for what he did to Mom. What he did to _me_."

Lance leaned forward, then slowly crawled across the floor to the bedside. Keith was still facing him, but his eyes were squeezed shut.

"Keith, that's not everything… is it?"

Keith hissed, shuddering. "Unless this is Druid magic, then it was him."

Keith's hand uncurled from the blankets, meeting Lance's. Even with the feathery touch, Keith was shaking. Lance used both of his hands to hold and steady it, so he could inspect what Keith was distressed over.

In the dark, it was incredibly hard to see, but Keith's usual skin wasn't this dark, especially compared to Lance's.

Lance was startled. "You're…"

"Purple," Keith whispered hoarsely. "I'm _fucking purple_."

Lance could've laughed if Keith didn't sound so distraught. _Purple?_ "Keith, you know, purple isn't such a bad colour… maybe it's _your_ colour. Better than red!" He laughed weakly, not letting go of Keith's hand.

Sweet Mother Mary he was making this worse. He could feel his friend trying to pull his hand away, but Lance held fast. It wasn't a cruel grip, just one that was _there_ , communicating silently that he wasn't going to leave, he wasn't going to give up on Keith just because he had turned purple or whatever. Friends didn't pull that kind of shit on each other.

So Lance's entire arm was up on the bed, firmly holding onto Keith's hand, which had disappeared back under the sheets with him.

"What do you think it is?" Lance asked, voice low.

Keith just stayed curled up and under the covers, breathing shallow and shuddering. God, Keith _had_ been crying.

"My father…" Keith hissed. It sounded like he had more to say, and just when Lance thought that Keith wasn't going to finish, he heard the faintest whisper. "… was one of _them_."

"A Galra?" Lance's head immediately began to spin with tens of hundreds of thousands of questions. They chased each other in inconclusive circles and jumbled Lance's mind into a confused knot. All he could do was stare in breathless silence, jaw hanging slack.

Keith used his free hand to shimmy the covers down off his head. It was hard to see in the dim, but Lance was positive that Keith's mullet wasn't _that_ fluffy.

Now it was Keith holding Lance's hand, guiding it up Keith's jawline and on top of his head until Lance felt something silky and… holy crow… "Keith, is that an _ear_?!"

Keith flinched again, and so did the enormous, fluffy ear. It flicked right back in irritation at the loud yell. He dropped Lance's hand like it had burned him. "Sorry."

"No, it's – it's fine." Lance said, settling his hand back down on the soft ear. It was so big, and holy crow, super soft.

"It just feels so wrong," Keith whispered, reaching up and touching the ear for himself. "These shouldn't be a part of me – the ears, the teeth… all of it. But they won't go away!" His hand tightened, gripping the ear like he intended to pull in right off.

Lance grasped Keith's hand, holding onto it and trying to pry it off as gently as he could.

"Keith, get a grip!" Lance hissed, brows furrowed. He really couldn't believe that Keith was the one losing his mind over this end that he was being called upon to be the voice of reason. That never happened. "Look, man, you - _we_ will figure this out. We can asked Allura and Coran abou-"

Keith bolted up in his bed, grabbing Lance by the shoulders. "No!"

Lance tumbled back, frightened by the sudden movement and the silhouette of a Galra lunging at him. He yelped when Keith's hands gripped his shoulders.

"Lance, you can't! I can't… if they find out what I really am…" Keith's voice faltered, breaking off at the end. Lance suddenly felt the heat rising in his cheeks in embarrassment. Keith was far more frightened than he was, and Keith was no Galra soldier – why was Lance afraid of him? He should be more scared _for_ him.

Keith was still holding him by the shoulders. His eyes were definitely glowing, and the purple of his irises were giving way to acidic yellow.

"You can't tell them, Lance," he repeated. "You can't tell Shiro, either! He'll hate me."

 _Oh no, oh no, he's crying! Shit!_

"No they won't, man," Lance reached up and lifted himself onto the bed with Keith. Lance wanted to do _something_ , he just didn't know what. _Hug him?_ Keith hated being touched. _Take his hand?_ That was a little out of the boundaries of their rivalry. "Look, remember when Pidge turned out to be a girl? Everyone was super cool with it! Nothing changed! It might be weird for a bit but it'll all be fine!" Lance tried to bend so he entered Keith's downcast sightline.

Keith drew back from Lance, "How can you even say that? How can you believe that?! This isn't at all like that! At least Pidge is _human_!"

"But-" Lance stopped. Keith had retreated from him, huddling into the corner of his bed cubby, looking like he was trying to melt not the wall. He was still crying, but Lance could tell he was also trying to hide it.

Lance sat on the edge of the bed, silently keeping his eyes locked on the opposite wall. He had no idea how long he sat like that, listening to Keith's sniffling and weak sobs in the corner.

When Keith quieted down, out of tears, Lance whispered, barely loud enough to hear. "What do you need me to do?"

Silence. Another short sniff. Nothing.

Lance cast a short glance out of the corner of his eye at Keith, then slowly rose to his feet. He silently padded to the door, then invited the glare of blue hallway lights into the room through the door. Lance was just about to step out of the door when he heard a small voice back in the room.

"Please stay."

Lance leaned back into the room, eyebrow raised.

"I… I need you to stay."

"Alright."


	3. Take a Chance, Lance

Somehow Lance fell asleep again on the end of Keith's bed, too-long limbs jumbled up and cramped, even when the other occupant was basically one with the wall by now. It had to at least be five in the morning when Keith stirred again, jolting Lance into full wakefulness.

"There's someone coming." Keith whispered, pulling the sheets up over his head violently, tearing the warm parts from Lance. "It sounds like Pidge."

"Keeeeeeeeeiith!" Sure enough, it was Pidge, now whining against the door. "Did you kill Lance? Or did you kidnap him at least? I can't find him!"

Lance panicked. He couldn't answer for Keith – he wasn't very good at mimicry. He plastered himself against the wall and nudge Keith in the side, hard enough to get a reaction. Keith shot up and out from his blankets, ears flicking furiously. Lance nearly had a heart attack because _holy shit_ , but instead nodded sharply to the door in a silent language even a dolt like Keith could understand.

Keith swallowed. "Of course not!" His voice cracked, and Lance could hardly pull himself together over it. He was just in time to bite on his hand to stifle his laughter. Keith glowered at him, something so incredibly terrifying Lance shut up immediately.

"Yah, like I can trust that voice. You better be decent – I'm coming in!"

Lance, now, had reverted back to panic. If that little gremlin broke in and saw Keith – blue and yellow eyes met, wide and both completely freaked out. Keith was thinking the same thing. Unfortunately, they weren't as synced in thought as Lance would have liked, because Keith suddenly grabbed Lance by the arm and flung him into stand.

Right in front of the door.

The door opened, and revealed Lance to the outside world.

Pidge stood, frozen, trying to register what she was seeing. Lance felt the colour rise in his cheeks. He was dishevelled and tired in Keith's room at five in the morning, and Pidge took on an impish smirk once she got over the initial shock.

"Kidnapped... but not against your will, eh?" She adjusted her glasses. Lance could almost swear he saw them flash like some clichéd anime.

"It's not like that!" Lance sputtered, reeling.

Pidge grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. "It's my turn to kidnap you, but don't worry, it won't get nasty." Lance screeched as she pulled him out into the hall, and she only poked her head into Keith's room for a moment to address the occupant, who was huddled under his blankets. "I'll return him when I feel like it. And in once piece, hopefully."

With that, Pidge turned on her heel and dragged Lance down the hall towards the general bay where all the lions were currently calibrating.

Lance pried her claws out of his jacket and staggered off to the side, but still kept stride with her. "Pidge, I swear, it's not what you think! I-"

"Lance, I don't care if you and Keith have sex," Pidge slid him a cursory glance. "I just hope you two have been safe. Hunk also owes me ten of those brownie things from Tensyn."

Lance choked, his cheeks deepened to jalapeño red. "You were betting on us? Pidge! Bad! No!" He grabbed her shoulder but she swatted him off because _'quiznak knows what you've been touching'_. At this rate, everybody in the Castle of Lions was going to think that he and Keith were – _actually, would that be so bad? Shut up, yet it would! But spilling the beans is worse than this cover…_

Lance muttered his last defense, but Pidge, of course, didn't care. She kept on powering to the bay, and Lance, predictably, trailed behind.

 _What the hell am I getting myself into? Space God help me._

* * *

Keith knew he had been pushing his luck. He had turned Coran away from his room countless times, and the rest of the team as well, and Lance could only shove so much food goo into his pockets without the others noticing. He also knew, based on Lance's reports, that Pidge was starting to get suspicious of Lance upping the frequency of 'private' visits in Keith's room.

"She keeps giving water bottles and asking me if I'm still thirsty!" Lance complained one afternoon, several days after he had discovered Keith's… condition. "She's too young to be thinking like that!"

Lance was sprawled out on the bed, head lazily rolling side to side, arms up over his head as he fiddled with the bedsheets.

Keith was in the bathroom examining himself in the mirror after his bath. He hated to think he was becoming as vain as Lance, but every day new additions had been adding themselves onto the mess that was his appearance.

His ears had definitely gotten bigger, and the fur that covered them had traveled down the side of his face, and was spreading down his neck to his shoulders and back. Patches of the short purple fur had sprouted on his arms, leaving horrible itchy patches that begged to be scratched. His irises had completely disappeared too, and his pupils, leaving just yellow. He could almost swear that there were patches of colour developing under his eyes too. They were hard to see, and when he had conferred with Lance about them the day before, the Blue Paladin had claimed to not be able to see them.

At least his hair wasn't turning completely purple. It was still raven black, but he could make out a purple sheen developing in it.

Keith pulled his shirt back on before going back into the room. He didn't need Lance making fun of the patches of fur that were growing on his sides.

He rubbed his towel through his hair as he re-entered the room.

"She won't find out though, right?" Lance's head popped up then dropped back down on the bed, "Not yet, anyways." Keith's grimace was unseen by Lance. He knew that the rest of the team would find out sooner than later, which was far too soon by Keith's standards of comfort.

"I don't think you can keep this up, Keith. We can't stay forever in outlying systems while you're 'sick'. The universe needs Voltron – you've always been going on about that. Sooner or later, they'll want to put you in a healing pod. What then?"

The towel was tossed on the floor. "What, so you're going to tell everyone?" He locked eyes with Lance. "That will go terribly. ' _By the way guys, he's actually one of the monsters that nearly kill us all on a regular basis, but he'd love to still be friends!'_ "

Lance's eyebrows furrowed. "What am I supposed to do, Keith? Drag this on until someone sees you and tries to kill you before you can say ' _hey, I'm actually Keith'_?" He dragged himself up onto his elbow, hissing after his friend, who had started to pace up and down the narrow room.

Lance could see the internal struggle raging in Keith. Team Voltron was the first real family Keith had had since his mother died. By revealing this side of him – one even Keith hadn't known had existed until a few days ago – he was risking the others hating him. Lance knew they'd understand, but Keith hadn't been so sure. They had argued about that point a lot over the past days.

"Dude, whatever you gotta do, I'm with you. You know that. Hey-" Lance snatched Keith's arm and stopped his pacing. He made sure that their eyes were locked. Blue and yellow. "- I'm going to help you."

Keith swallowed.

He slowly pried his arm out of Lance's hold, but then took a seat on the bed next to him. He didn't speak for a moment, then leaned towards his friend, careful not to touch. "Allura and Coran first, okay?"

"Yah."

* * *

Finding Allura was easy. As per usual, she was on the bridge, squinting at the holographic constellations. Coran was (also predictably) right beside her, rambling on about the quadrant they were in.

Unpredictably, Pidge was there as well, picking at her teeth with her fingernails and typing one-handed on her laptop.

Lance didn't like being a whiner, but getting Allura away from the ship controls was harder than he first thought it would be. He whined for her to leave the ship for 'one tiny little second' to Pidge while Allura and Coran helped him with something, like, fast.

Coran, of course, was going to go with the princess wherever she went, so if Lance had her, he had them both.

 _"So I have this thing that I need you guys to come check out – not really a thing, more of an it? I'd appreciate help, so, uh, if you could come, like… soon, as in now…"_

Now Lance was standing outside of Keith's room with her and Coran. He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Lance couldn't take her suspicious looks anymore, so he opened the door and stuck his head in. "Hey, Keith, I got 'em. You good?"

He could hear shuffling on the bed, and the blankets were visibly torn up from the end. Keith effectively was hid himself before giving a 'mumpfh' in response.

Allura hesitated to step in after Lance, but she proceeded into the darkened room anyway. Lance waved her closer to the bed, and he could see Coran waiting by the door.

Keith was breathing shallow. So many things could go wrong – what if Allura tried to kill him? He pulled the blankets tighter over his head, silently cursing himself for agreeing to do this.

"Keith, what is the matter?" When Allura spoke, Keith cringed. He balled up even more when her hand met his shoulder.

"Hey," Lance spoke now, "Keith, hesitating isn't going to make this ago away. You have to do this."

Keith knew Lance was right, but he knew also that the moment that he removed the blanket from his head, everything would take a riptide fast change. It would be like jumping off a cliff. Fast changes were bad, something he couldn't take, but the alternative – hiding forever, not being able to face his friends – _family_ he had finally been able to bond with…

 _Whatever you gotta do, I'm with you._ Lance had been so sincere when he had said that. Lance was his friend.

If Keith had even one friend in the entire universe – he could do this.

Keith tugged down on the blanket, pulling it onto his lap.

Allura gasped – sort of screamed – and drew back from him, eyes wide with shock. Keith immediately dove back down onto the bed, ripping the covers up and over his ears again.

 _What was I thinking?! What did I expect?! For her to welcome_ this _in with open arms?_ Keith choked into the mattress.

Lance was on the bed now, trying to coax him into sitting back up while trying to get Allura to calm down. "It just happened a few days ago – I'm the only one, other than you and Coran, who knows. Please, Princess."

"Keith is Galran?!" Coran's voice rose an octave, piercing Keith's ears and his new hypersensitive hearing. Keith burrowed himself deeper into his bed. Lance hissed for Coran to quiet down.

"Allura, please, help us figure out what this is, I can't, and he won't."

Keith didn't dare open his eyes to look at her. It was bad enough that he was already purple and furry; he didn't want to add yellow eyes into the mix.

"Allura, please." Keith knew that Lance wasn't not above begging – but begging for someone else, that was new. Lance had his hand around Keith's wrist, and Keith let him take it. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt anyway.

Keith could hear her hesitation: the hitches in her breath, the pounding of her heart, the slight rustle of her dress and she slowly, joltingly, leaned back in towards Keith. He flinched when she spoke. _So loud._ "Keith, look at me." He could feel his own heart racing now. "Keith." Her voice was stern now.

Hesitantly, Keith's eye cracked open. He could only see her through that one eye, but through the blurred fringes of his eyelashes and the dark of the room, he could see that her brow was furrowed. She looked frightened, but she was holding it back, trying to cover it with a mask of calm. Keith shivered under her scrutiny – he could feel tears welling up in his eye. _Crap, blink it back, don't let her see you crying, you idiot!_

She dipped her head, leveling her eyes with his. _How does she know where to stare me straight in the eye when I have no pupils?_

"What are you?"

Keith choked again.

Lance made a strangled noise in disgust at the question. He was about to speak but the Princess raised her finger to silence him. His mouth zipped shut immediately, but it didn't erase the scowl that had rooted itself on his face.

"What are you, Keith?"

Keith's mouth was suddenly dry, and his tongue felt thick – not from biting it. "I – I'm a Galra…"

"No you're not," Allura hissed.

He grimaced. _Why is she doing this? It hurts enough!_ "Look at me, Allura. Of course I am."

Allura leaned in and got _very_ close. Keith could smell the scent of juniberry soap on her. "You are the Red Paladin. You are a member of Team Voltron. And you will get out of your room and resume training."

Keith couldn't breathe. He could hear his blood roaring through his veins, his heart beating erratically.

Suddenly, she was gone.

Lance took a step back, letting out a throaty sigh of relief. He didn't expect it to go like that. He had thought that it would've involved a bit more judo flipping and screaming. _Allura being calm is scarier than her being angry…_ It didn't change the fact that his heart was still thrashing at a mile a minute against his ribcage.

"What the hell just happened?" Keith bolted upright on his bed, his grip on the sheets was turning his knuckles white. Lance could see the shock on him – not just in his eyes, but fact that Keith's full head of hair was on end, as well as the fluff on his face and neck.

"Apparently Allura doesn't care." _Oh quiznak he looks like a cat._

"No, no, she does care! She was scared!" Keith hissed at him, "She just said that so she could get out of here without looking rude!"

"I'll go talk to her, Keith, I swear I can sort this out." Lance made for the door.

Keith protested, trying to get up to catch Lance before he escaped, he was already out of the door. Keith cursed and slammed his fist against the wall, catching himself before he bolted out into the hallway after him, and Lance left him behind.

Lance could hear him cursing all the way down the hall, but kept going, dashing straight past a bewildered Coran. "Hey magic ship! Where's the Princess?"

One of the wall panels lit up, highlighting the hallway leading to the training deck on a map of the Castle. _Of course._ If Keith wasn't in there, then Shiro would definitely be the only one hitting the training deck today. Pidge hardly went in there on her own accord, and Hunk was probably messing around with the Yellow Lion in his hanger.

Besides Coran, Shiro would be the first person Allura would confer with when she was upset. _But if she tells Shiro…_ Lance bolted down the hall to the training deck, taking the shortcut down the dumbwaiter to the lower level. _Shit, shit, shit, shit._

He hardly reached the training deck before Allura had opened the door. Her eyes widened when she saw him barreling towards her. Lance nearly tripped once he got to her, but he regained his balance and his breath against the wall.

"Allura…" he huffed, "please don't tell Shiro!"

"Lance, what are you doing?"

Lance bolted up, dusting himself off and trying to act like he hadn't desperately parkoured through three levels of the castle's dark unmentionables (They hadn't been cleaned for ten thousand years – one could imagine the buildup). "Nothing, you?"

Her ears dropped back in annoyance, "I understand that you are worried about my discretion." Lance looked down at his shoes. "But I wasn't going to tell Shiro."

"Oh."

"I just need to clear my head."

Allura clasped her hands in front of her. _She needs time_. It was all very sudden, and Lance hadn't really thought through the whole idea as thoroughly as he should have. The implications of Keith belonging to a species that was their enemy – the empire that the Voltron Alliance fought against it would be even more overwhelming for Allura than it had been for Lance.

She had been alive when the Altean Empire fought against the Galra, and she was still reeling from their destruction.

"Look, Princess, I'm sorry for dropping this on you." Lance said. His hands fidgeted awkwardly with the hem of his jacket. "I just –"

"Don't apologize." Allura cut him off. Suddenly her expression faltered. "Please, just excuse me."

Lance allowed her to brush past him, disappearing into the training room.


	4. It's Called the 'Pidge Effect'

Pidge sat on the head of the Green Lion, tinkering in one of the panels and fixing up some messed up bits with her welding torch. She had her visor down to block the flying sparks. Given all the time that they had stayed out of the fire line, it was high time she finished the menial repairs and went into modification, but she was having a hard time bringing her plans into fruition.

She just couldn't focus.

The common hangar was louder than usual – Hunk was doing something with Yellow's tail blaster, making a racket enough to wake the dead, and the music was blaring from the corner speaker. Making a dock for Lance's music player was easy, and now that they were off planet, Pidge could steal all the music she wanted from Earth's data sphere, since the castle helped her reach into the system. Of course, whether Pidge was in space or on Earth, she would still pirate anyway – who was going to stop her?

Pidge turned off her welding torch and sat back with a sigh. While it was nice to have some down time, she missed having something to do. And she wasn't even addicted to the inevitable adrenaline of their missions like Keith. Pidge was just… bored.

These past few days, everything that Pidge had done was driven by boredom. She had been on the bridge because she wanted to tally distress signals and scan for signs of her family, but mostly because Coran was always willing to talk and prattle, and that provided a nice distraction.

With another sigh, Pidge drew her legs out of the panel and heaved it shut. She wasn't getting far with trying to add repulsors to Green's ears – her current project was being thwarted by fate. They were capable of something, but what, she wasn't quite sure.

She wiped her arm along her forehead to swipe off the sweat that had gathered from being pressed against the welding torch's headband.

Of course, with her mind not pounding into something technical, it began to wander. Right to Lance and Keith. Pidge had been joking before, but with Lance gone for long periods of time in Keith's room, she was almost certain now that they were having sex. While she knew she didn't care and had no desire to get involved in their personal relationship, she couldn't help but feel miffed whenever she walked past that closed door. _Damn rude, that's what that is_. And every time they had dinner together, Lance would just sit uncharacteristically quiet, avoiding everyone's eyes, which was even weirder and _extremely mcfreaking rude!_ He just wasn't being himself after Keith had fallen 'ill', and it was throwing everyone off.

She wasn't sure what, but Pidge needed something to come that would jolt the team back into their version of normal. Of course, their normal usually involved laser guns and near-death experiences.

Green hummed contentedly, the metal plates on her head vibrated. Images of relaxing beaches and quiet places were presented to Pidge in her mind's eye, but she batted them away mentally.

"Easy for you, you ingrate," Pidge sniffed at her lion. "You don't experience boredom. You sat in an abandoned temple for ten thousand years and it was nothing!"

Green creaked her jaw and sent more pictures.

"Oh, shut up, I'm not like Lance… what would you now about hyperactivity?" Pidge crinkled her nose. "Mindmelds don't count, because that's what I know."

Pidge jumped down into the cockpit of the lion. Watching both what Green was telling her and where she was going was difficult. "Ah, don't cheat! It doesn't count because you're just mooching from me!"

Green rumbled.

The other paladins didn't argue with their lions quite like Pidge did, but it was unique to their relationship and their more intellectual natures that they would have friendly debate.

Pidge slid down the ladder and exited through the mouth. Out on the floor of the hangar, Hunk was surrounded by a mountain of tools and parts. She could see his head over it all. He had changed after the wormhole incident – he had lost a lot of weight, and he had stopped cutting his hair. It was pulled back into a small bun by his old hairband.

He looked pretty concentrated, so Pidge didn't bother him.

Pidge had learned in her career of paladin that the caste was very easy to get lost in, like, extremely easy. So she knew that mindless wandering was, in theory, a bad idea, but she was bored out of her space tree, so by golly, she was going to do it anyways.

She fiddled idly with the welding mask, following whichever path her feet took. After an hour of wandering obscure passages, Pidge managed to subconsciously travel back to familiar paths, past the training deck. Lance was standing outside, forehead pressed against the wall in a defeated posture.

Pidge edged around him, and continued her wandering. Eventually, she found herself standing outside the door of the bridge.

"All roads lead to Rome," She muttered.

Allura and Coran were probably still dealing with Lance and whatever he needed help with – heaven knew he needed all the help he could get. Pidge smacked her palm to her face, groaning.

There was only one thing that was left for her to trying: trying to force her insomniac butt to _sleep_.

She actually got as far as the paladin quarters before she got sidetracked again. Nothing special about it – just Keith's door. But it was quite intriguing for one of Pidge's curious nature.

 _Ah, screw it_. She shoved up her sleeves, readjusting her glasses. _Sucks to sleep, I'm stuffing this guy in a healing pod and I don't care if he's stronger or bigger than me. I need something to do than fighting insomnia._

Pidge confronted the keypad and jabbed in her override code. The castle didn't have it originally, but she had installed the program because Pidge does what Pidge wants ( _this wasn't the first time Pidge had fallen to the monstrous boredom_ ).

"Fair warning, Princess Keith!" She yelled through the door before she finished the code.

Pidge sidled into the room, giving it the once over before finally concluding that Keith wasn't actually in there, but the light was on in the bathroom, and there was the sound of a running shower. Steam rolled out through the open door.

Pidge dropped her welding mask onto Keith's bed, then went and leaned against the doorframe. The shower was partitioned off by a wall, so Pidge wasn't worried about seeing anything.

"Hey, Keith."

There was a loud scream and a slapping noise, probably Keith slamming against the wall in shock. Pidge smirked.

" _Pidge_ , what the _hell_ are you doing in here?!" Keith gasped.

"Relax, I'm in your room," Pidge rolled her eyes, "Not like I wanna see what's going on there anyways."

"Pidge, get out!"

The girl groaned, "But I'm avoiding sleep! Come on Keith, we do this all the time together."

Keith sighed in resignation. "Just don't come in, okay?"

"Dude, not interested," Pidge replied brusquely.

The shower continued to power on. The ones in the castle were heaven – like actual rain that fell from the ceiling. On a spaceship under normal conditions, Pidge would've deemed it wasteful, but the Castle of Lions had water storage large enough to support a crew of over a thousand for two months.

Pidge crinkled up her nose. "It smells like wet dog in here."

"D-does it?" Pidge almost missed the twinge of anxiety in Keith's voice. Maybe it was some obscure shampoo from a trade planet?

"Ya. I used to give my dog, Widget, baths all the time. It smelled like this – but with a bit more mischief and regret mixed in." Pidge chuckled. "Did you drag Lance in there with you at one point? Might explain it."

" _P-Pidge_!" Keith sputtered. Pidge could imagine Keith's usually pale face turning cherry red. She grinned impishly. This was way better than sleeping. "I can't believe you!"

"Oh, come on, Keith. I totally know you two are having sex, don't be ashamed."

"We are not having _sex_!" Keith screeched.

Pidge chortled, "Kay, fine, you're not having sex."

"Thank y-"

" _Yet_."

"Pidge I swear to quiznak! Get out of my room!"

"Fine! Fine!" Pidge surrendered. She raised her hands, though he couldn't see, and made her way to the door. "I'll go!"

 _But… should I? It's actually the best time to tackle him and drag him to a healing pod._ Pidge made up her mind. She opened the door, then closed it, not taking a single step outside of the room.

Pidge had been working on her stealth anyways. She positioned herself outside of the bathroom door. _Could he be overpowered by sheer will and determination?_ Pidge could only find out.

Keith didn't turn the shower off for another half hour, and Pidge would've left, if she wasn't so determined to get that butt in a healing pod. She wasn't going to leave, and she wasn't going to barge in the bathroom at risk of going blind. Pidge could take seeing the guys in just their shorts, but she wasn't ready to see any of them in the buck.

She kept her breathing to a minimum, trying not to be heard at all. Her feet were soft on the floor and her fingers only just brushed the wall for support.

Pidge didn't need to be so cautious, apparently, because Keith was swearing loudly. The tap was suddenly turned on and she could hear Keith spitting into the sink, cursing with every breath. He kept going for a bit, and Pidge was so close to just jumping out from behind the doorframe and just dragging him feet first from the bathroom.

 _No. Patience… patience yields focus._ That's what Shiro always said. She could hear him, and could imagine his process of drying off and getting dressed and cleaning up after himself. And… _now_!

Pidge leapt forward, tackling Keith just as he exited the bathroom. Keith yelped as they tumbled to the ground, Pidge victoriously crowing over him.

"I'm taking you to the healing pods, you sick-" Pidge froze, eyes widening into dinner plates.

Keith was frozen underneath of her, mouth agape in shock. Pidge's mind was one long error code – nothing was working, the gears had locked, the circuits jolted.

It was only a deep rooted instinct that threw her off of him and onto the floor on her butt. She scrambled back, sharp breaths turning into panicked squeaks.

 _This thing – it isn't Keith! It's a Galra – in the castle? With Keith's voice?_

The Galra lifted its arm, reaching out to her. "Pidge-"

"S-Stay away!" Pidge yelled. She didn't feel herself pulling herself into a stand, but she did feel herself slip back down when the bed sheets came loose. She landed hard, and her welding mask landed hard on her lap and tumbled to the floor with her.

She never tore her eyes from the eyes of the Galra when she reached for the mask. Before it could react, she had the mask in her hand, and chucked it as hard as she could at its head.

The welding mask met its mark, slamming against the head of the Galra. It fell back onto the floor, yelling harshly and hitting the ground with its fist.

Pidge made a dash for the door, and out into the hallway. She hit the wall on the other side, and the door closed after her, but through her panic, the only clear thought in her head compelled her back to the keypad to jab in a lock code.

The machine had hardly confirmed the code before Pidge bolted off again down the hall. _Who did I see last? Who? Who? Who? Hunk – no, Lance! Outside the training deck entrance!_ She almost tripped down the hallway on her mad dash to the last place she had seen Lance.

She knew that the dumbwaiter was the fastest way down there, so she pried the grate open and was about to jump in, but – a sudden thought entered her mind, and made her freeze, one foot in the shaft.

If Lance was in Keith's room so frequently – how – did he _know_? Had he been aware the entire time, that whatever was in Keith's room was _there_? The mealtime silences, him awkwardly avoiding the rest of the team: that was typical Lance behaviour when he was hiding something. _Damn it!_ Pidge slammed her fist against the wall. _And I thought that they were… How could I possibly be so stupid?_

Whatever she had locked in Keith's room wasn't Keith. It might look like him, talk like him – hell, she had an entire conversation with it, completely unaware up until the moment she saw it.

Pidge's chest twinged.

She knew she was wrong.

It was Keith. But every time she tried to think _how_ or _why_ , her circuits started to short out and she would get caught in an inconclusive loop.

 _Lance. Lance knows._

Pidge threw herself down the shaft, skidding down the sides with her sneakers until she came to a stop at the third floor down. She wretched the doors open on the dumbwaiter opening, pushing herself out and rolling unceremoniously on the floor.

Pidge hauled herself up against the wall.

Lance came into view, forehead still pressed against the wall where she had last seen him. He looked like he had gotten comfortable in his skulking. Kinda zoned out in self-pity, too.

Pidge stopped directly in Lance's space bubble, brow furrowed, shoulders trembling. "Lance, what the _everloving quiznak_ did I just lock in Keith's room?"

Lance's shoulders suddenly locked up, and his head swivelled to look Pidge in the eye. "W-what are you talking about?"

" _Keith's room_!"

Lance scowled. "What about it?" He was so transparent, Pidge had no idea how she had believed his performance for the past week.

"Don't dodge!" Pidge fumed. "I just threw a welding mask at a Galra and locked it in Keith's room!"

" _You what_?" Lance suddenly was off the wall and reeling. "Pidge!"

"What is going on?!" Pidge stepped closer to Lance every step he retreated. "It looks like Keith, sounds like him-"

Lance's hand was suddenly clamped over her mouth. "It – it is Keith! Just shut up for a tick and let me explain!"

Pidge licked his hand. Lance flew back, and didn't come back to cover her mouth when she bared her teeth at him. "Then you better have a _really_ good explanation."

"What's this about?"

Both Lance and Pidge's heads snapped to attention. Shiro and Allura were just exiting the training deck, Shiro at Allura's arm.

Pidge knew the Black Paladin, walking in on the scene, was rightfully confused. She rarely was able to tower over Lance, but there she was. Lance, however, wasn't exactly cowering – he was just as obstinate as Pidge.

"Lance is hiding a –" Lance's hand flew to cover Pidge's mouth again, but she slapped it away. "He's hiding a Galra in the castle and says that it's Keith!"

Shiro was visibly stunned, eyes growing wide in fear. "What?" His eyes suddenly hardened. "Lance, what is she talking about?"

Lance fumbled, still shocked at the turn of events. Dealing with Pidge was one thing, but the approach he had planned on taking to Shiro was entire different – mostly non-existent. "Well, I – uh – Keith is…"

" _Lance_."

Allura tried to immediately calm him, "Please just wait, Shiro, just listen to what Lance has to say!"

Lance nodded, trying to remain as calm as possible. He drew himself up, and began to explain very carefully.

" _Keith'smomfuckedanalienandnowhe'spurpleandwe'vebeenhidingit_!"


	5. Who Cares if You're Fuzzy and Purple?

Keith screamed, slamming his head against the wall. _Shit! Shit! Shit!_ Why did Pidge have to try to be a trickster? Why did she stay? _Crap!_ He slammed on the button to open the door, only to be angrily screeched at in denial by the alarm.

How many times had he hit the damn button, and how many times had its loud blaring driven him to his knees in pain? His damn ears were too sensitive for this! Keith slid down against the wall, hissing and hating himself, pulling at the damn ears with all his might.

He pulled so hard he was past the point of hurting – but what agony was worse? The pain of having these unfair pieces of him, or the pain of seeing Pidge's terrified eyes player over a thousand times over in his mind?

The way she had looked at him – hell, she was far beyond terrified.

The welding mask was still on the ground, left where it had fallen after Pidge had thrown it at him. Keith's head throbbed where it had connected.

He almost didn't hear the footsteps coming down the hall, but when they stopped in front of his door, Keith immediately scrambled up and retreated to the far wall.

The door slid open and somebody edged in. Tall, gangly, yep, it was Lance.

"Hey, Mullet."

Keith sniffed, but didn't say anything.

"So, uh, Pidge found me. She said she threw a welding mask at you – you alright?"

"I screwed up so bad."

"No – well, actually kinda. How did you not hear her with those big ears of yours?" Lance asked. He calmly made his way over to where Keith was pressed against the wall. Keith cringed back, glaring at Lance.

"Lance."

"Yeah, so Pidge kinda was yelling at me and Shiro found us and Allura had to pretty much stop him from strangling me before I could explain." Lance tried to offer a smile, but Keith's grimace stopped him. "Look. Everyone knows now. Hunk walked in halfway through me explaining."

Keith felt numb. They all knew. They all knew and he was fucked. They all hated him. Pidge. Hunk. _Shiro_. Keith barely registered Lance putting his hand on his knee. He stopped breathing.

"Keith, are you listening?"

He flinched.

"Everyone wants to talk. They're waiting for us in the dining hall."

"I don't want to talk. They'll all see me."

"Are you kidding me? You're worried about that _now_? They already know!"

"It's not that!" Keith hissed. He knew it wasn't the fact that they _knew_ , it was that as soon as they saw him in full light, purple and fuzzy and yellow-eyed, it would solidify what he feared the most.

That he truly wasn't one of them. He would be an outsider, an enemy – for real.

The moment he reveals himself is the moment that he accepts whatever he has become, and he has no hope of changing whatever that is.

"I…"

"Look, you know what I said before? I'm still with you with whatever you choose, but now you don't have as many options as you did before, okay?" Lance leaned back, then stood up. "I'm going to be in the dining hall with the others. You can come when you're ready."

* * *

Lance sat at the dining table with the others, silently staring down at his clasped hands in his lap. He didn't want to address the heavy silence that draped over the team like a thick smoke, and neither did the others.

Pidge was glaring at a dirty spot on the table, and Shiro was absolutely unreadable with his eyes closed and face drawn up. The only one out of all of them about to crack was Hunk, who was nibbling at his fingernails nervously and constantly shifting.

Lance's foot was tapping, but he wasn't as antsy as Hunk.

Allura was standing off to the side with Coran, exchanging whispers low enough that even Lance couldn't hear, even though they were only a few feet away. Must be an Altean thing.

Even though he found his hands profoundly interesting, Lance was checking the entrance to the hall every few moments, hoping to see Keith.

The guy avoided people on the best of days, so Lance knew it was a longshot to get him to leave his room like this. But he wanted to hope, wanted to believe that Keith would come through, and walk through that door.

* * *

Keith's hand steadied on the doorframe, it was the only part of him that wasn't shaking like a leaf. The hallway was before him, bright and clear and smelling so overwhelming. It wasn't like his bedroom, cocooned heavily in his own scent, and giving undertones of Lance and the smallest trace of Pidge – it was a cacophony of smells that assaulted his nose. Team Voltron, the Alteans, machinery, and the twang of cleaning supplies all crashed into him.

The light was so bright, after being in his dimmed room for so long, and the air was sharp.

He was wearing a thick shirt under his jacket, one that was too long for his arms, so it curled over his fingers and wrapped around his hands.

He had the strap of Pidge's welding mask hooked on the fingers of his left hand.

 _The moment I step out, I can't go back._

Keith took one last look at his room, and with his heart pounding, he left.

* * *

Lance almost didn't notice it, but he caught it out of the corner of his eye – the smallest bit of red leather. He leaned over a bit, trying to get a better view, and he finally could see him.

Keith was pressed against the wall, sidling in closer to the doorframe in an approach to the dining hall.

Lance silently leaned back, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. It wasn't often that he shut up, but if it would make Keith more comfortable with going through with this, Lance was willing to go the rest of his life as a mute.

Shiro nearly jumped out of his seat when Keith came into view, his head hanging and his eyes not leaving the floor. His arms were hugged close to his body, and he hunched over them like he had a stomach ache.

Everyone's heads had snapped to him, and Keith shifted uncomfortably under their bewildered stares. Lance went back to being fascinated by his hands, until something caught his eye.

Hunk had sprung out of his seat – surprisingly fast for a guy his size – and tackle-hugged Keith.

Keith squeaked loudly in surprise, and Lance was already halfway out of his chair when Hunk started to hug really, _really_ right around the poor boy.

"I don't care, you know, man? Who cares if you're Galra or purple or whatever?!" Hunk started swinging side to side, almost completely absorbing Keith in his hug, only his legs dangled uselessly side to side. "We're still teammates, right?"

Keith gasped for air, but with his arms pinned to his sides, he couldn't tap out of the strangling hug.

Lance had to intervene. "Hunk, dude, you're squeezing the guy to death!"

"Oh, whoops."

Keith was plopped back down on his feet, and he stumbled back, wheezing.

"Sorry."

Lance ran his hand through his hair, moving in towards Keith. He patted him on the back. "You good, man?"

Keith coughed, but nodded. "S'kay." _Does he know his ears flick all over the place when he coughs? Mother Mary, what about when he sneezes?_ Lance immediately had to suppress his grin. This was serious. _You can worry about flicky ears later!_

Shiro was up as well now, hanging behind Lance and Hunk, but was studying Keith intently. He had a look in his eyes that was difficult to read.

Keith opened his mouth, but Shiro raised his human hand. "You don't need to explain." Lance could see that Keith was fighting back tears – he swallowed hard, blinking fast. "I know you're still you, Keith, and nothing is going to change that."

Shiro shouldered his way through Hunk and Lance, coming to stand face to face with Keith. The Red Paladin's ears flicked back as Shiro reached out with his left hand, but the tension slowly melted from his demeanour one Shiro's hand rested calmly on his shoulder.

"Keith," Shiro leveled his eyes with him. "You will always be the Red Paladin. You are my friend, and I will never give you up, come hell or high water."

Keith suddenly flew forward, wrapping his arms around Shiro. The Black Paladin flinched, but after a beat, his arms folded down over Keith.

They stood together like a statue, Keith sniffling into Shiro's shoulder.

Lance stood silently, heck, nobody made a peep. It seemed to last forever, but the nervous tension was starting to wind down to a dull roar. Keith slowly released Shiro, shifting away with a weak smile. Suddenly his eyes shifted, and when Lance followed them, he traced their path to Pidge.

She was standing, hackles practically raised. Her hands were balled in tight fists.

"Pidge…"

She glared at him. "Lance already told me." Keith flinched at her venomous tone. "And you know I have more reason than most to hate _this_." Lance stepped forward to intervene, but Hunk stopped him. The look in his eyes said it all. _Let them sort this out._

Keith bowed his head. "I don't expect y-"

"But you didn't choose this, right?"

"What?"

"You didn't choose to be a Galra – You hate them! I know you do!" Pidge shuddered, taking a deep breath. _She's rationalizing her own feelings… this had nothing to do with Keith's thoughts._ Lance's eyebrows drew together.

"The Galra Empire took my family, they _hurt_ Shiro, and they've been messing with our lives ever since we became paladins. But none of that is your fault. And I shouldn't be angry with you for what you can't control! But…" Pidge's voice pinched, and her expression became pained.

Keith drew up his arms, fiddling with the welding mask with both hands. Even though the sleeves of his shirt covered his hands, his slender purple fingers were visible, along with the small claws that protruded from them. He was careful not to scratch the green paint from the mask with them.

It was slow and awkward, but Keith made his way around the table, stopping a foot away from Pidge. He thrust the welding mask out towards her, head hung. He wasn't able to meet her eyes.

It was a silent truce, one which Pidge accepted with shaking hands.

"I can't say I'm perfectly alright with this, not yet. I…" She brought the mask close to her chest, paying it far more attention than it deserved. "I still need more time to figure this all out."

"I know," Keith retreated back a few steps. "I don't expect any of you to accept this right away."

Lance exhaled, feeling his heart finally slow from its rabbit pace. _That could have gone much worse._

* * *

Allura was up late in the med bay, sipping at what Hunk had called 'coffee', or at least the closest he could make to it. It tasted funny, to her, but Pidge chugged the stuff like it was water, so Allura was determined to acquire a taste for it.

She was going over the results from Keith's blood tests – he was adamant on her and Coran taking them – scanning for anything. They hadn't been able to get the blood easily, since Keith's biology seemed to still be settling, the blood had burned right through their syringes until exactly nine days after, as the humans said, the cat got out of the bag.

The blood was suspended in the glass analysing chamber, suspended in zero gravity for laser scans.

 _Composition… something the humans called plasma, red and white cells… platelets…_ the computer recognised them all, counting them out and taking pictures for later reference. It wasn't the dark crimson that humans usually exhibited; it was more of a reddish magenta.

Allura sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She set down her coffee, but then froze. On the screen, highlighted in red, was a very distinct word, unique to the Altean vocabulary.

She bolted up, knocking over the coffee and ran out of the room, almost tripping on the hem of her dress. Allura balled up the fabric in her fists and lifted her skirts, quickly consulting with the castle's computer system on the location of the Red Paladin.

She nearly scared the pants out of her team when she burst into the lounge, and she almost could swear that she saw Keith jump a few feet off the couch, throwing Lance into a screaming mess and Hunk into disarray.

She strode right up to Keith, and ignoring his protests, grabbed his face with one hand and used to other to part the fine fur on his cheekbones.

"Allura, what the crow are you doing?"

The princess shushed him, getting closer to examine the skin beneath the fur.

"I _knew_ it!" She cried triumphantly, suddenly pulling Keith into a bone-breaking hug. Keith attempted a tap out with Lance, but the Blue Paladin shook his head wildly and backed off, crawling across the couch.

"Princess!" Keith gasped.

She pulled away, holding him at arm's length. "The moment I saw the blood results! We're not alone!" Allura giggled. "Keith, you have Altean blood!" Allura couldn't take it anymore, and pulled him in for another hug.

"I… what?"

"I thought it was strange, how you were able to change, but it makes so much more sense now! It used to happen all the time due to the diplomatic nature of our race – it never occurred to me that Alteans could hide this long – how many generations?" She laughed again. "How clever we are."

"Allura," Keith pushed her off, his ears flicked back, "what are you talking about?"

"I was analysing your blood tests in the med bay and a component unique to Alteans was present in the sample! _Shalune_! It's what allows us to shapeshift! It gives us our skin markings as well!"

Lance leaned in, then parted the fur on Keith cheekbone with his own thumb. "Geez, Keith, she's right!"

Keith swatted his hand away, then covered his face with his hands.

"They better be red."

"More like blood orange…"

"Shut up Lance, it's fucking _red_."

"Just kidding, they're blue."

Keith groaned, brushing the fur down. "No one will ever see them. They're covered in fur now. You said couldn't see them before."

"But now I can. I had no idea I rubbed off on you so much."

Keith sniffed at Lance, lightheartedly pushing him away with the flat of his palm on Lance's chest. Allura took the opportunity and dove in for another hug.

He let her.

Maybe he hugged her back. Just a little.

* * *

Lance was sprawled on Keith bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, mumbling under his breath while Keith dried off from his shower.

Keith couldn't believe how much he had to shower. Twice a day? Sometimes three, depending on how much physical exercise he had done. Apparently fur got sweaty fast, and he was self-conscious of the fact, constantly assessing whether or not he smelled like a wet dog.

When Keith finally came out, he dropped his two towels (what was required to get that furry mess dry) down the laundry chute and dropped on the bed next to Lance.

Lance crinkled his eyes at his friend. "You have beautiful eyespots."

Keith hissed, punching Lance solidly on the arm. "Fuck off."

"Oh, come on, you knew, didn't you? That your mom was Altean?!"

"Of course not!" Keith said, sitting up. "How could I have known?"

"I don't know – the fact that I know you don't have a tragic anime backstory that starts with you being orphaned from birth?" Lance sat up as well, grinning.

"Dude, you think my mom would drop that on a kid like me? I was six years old!" Keith huffed. He knew he was right – she wouldn't have told him, not if he wasn't ready for it. She always quoted the 'patience is a virtue' like it was a fun phrase to use, not some tired quote grandmothers stitched onto pillows. But on the inside, he was hurt. It hurt more than when he had to accept being a Galra. The fact that his mother was Altean, or at least part Altean, should've been discussed. Even six year old him knew how to keep his mouth shut.

Keith shifted off to the side. "She never told me. I trust that judgement. It was for the better. Can you imagine what would've happened if we had been discovered?" Keith shuddered to think.

He now understood why she had refused to see doctors for her illness. Medication probably wouldn't have worked – and if they had found what Allura had found, this _Shalune_ stuff, they both would have been quarantined… maybe even put under custody of the Garrison.

Lance nodded slowly. "I guess you'll never really know."

"No." Keith sighed. "I don't think I will."

"But you're not alone." Lance said.

Keith leaned back down onto the mattress. He didn't say a word; he just looked sidelong at his friend.

Lance looked him dead in the eye. Blue locking with yellow. "I'm with you."


End file.
